


Moonlight Sonata

by PrincessDianaArtemis



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Drinking, Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Gen, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Spouses, Jazz Age, Jazz Baby AU, Prohibition, Smoking, Speakeasies, WhiteleyFoster's DTIYS, flapper crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessDianaArtemis/pseuds/PrincessDianaArtemis
Summary: Inspired by Whiteley's Jazz Baby DTIYS.Crowley and Aziraphale find a quiet moment after a crazy night at a speakeasy. This is just some good-natured fluff.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	Moonlight Sonata

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/gifts).



Aziraphale had seen Crowley sneaking away from the party a couple of minutes ago. Slithering through the crowd of bodies that were at high swing of frantic frenzy and drunken revelry. 

It’s true that Heaven had patted Aziraphale on the back for the Temperance movement, but he’d much rather be in the midst of these party-goers than the straight-backed and stern people responsible for this underground lair. 

Especially if it meant coming across Crowley at every turn.

The demon had invited him to this specific Speakeasy, a little tamer than most and not yet corrupted by the wads of cash that were rolling into the Bootlegger’s hands. 

With bone-soaking Jazz music that brought both supernatural beings out of their element and onto the dance-floor for an upbeat dance along with the humans. Aziraphale had been taken by the rare, open expression on his demon’s face, and the edges of her lined eyes that were bright with joy and crinkled in laughter. His stomach had squeezed with affection and something that he dared not name at the risk of getting them both killed.

The only problem was that the two of them had been so caught up in their little bubble of joy that they almost missed the scent of a different demon disguised along the crowd. Crowley had almost been caught alongside him by Ligur who was there to spread a little chaos among patrons. With dropping hearts, and twisting stomachs, the two decided to split, making plans to meet back up when it was safe.

So now, having waited long enough for the feel of Ligur’s fermented sweetness to dance far enough away, Azriaphale found himself spiraling up the stairs towards where his demon had said she'd be waiting. 

The stairs led up to different floors and different levels of debauchery, of uninhibited affections safely tucked away in this haven. As Crowley had tempted them to act upon feelings they’d been afraid of out in the wider world, Aziraphale blessed them - that their love be protected in a time where it wasn’t all accepted. 

And letting the aura of love radiating through the air sink into his skin and add to his glow, he followed his own heart higher and onto the rooftop. 

When Aziraphale pulled himself onto the roof, a little breathless from the descent onto the sloped surface, he was relieved to see the edges of black from Crowley’s fringed, rhinestone dress. Then his breath caught in his chest for a whole different reason. 

Aziraphale gazed at the moon-bathed silhouette and his heartbeat - unnecessary but present - sped up as his eyes followed the relaxed line of Crowley’s body, the glistening of light on her crushed-rose hair, and the smattering of constellations on her shoulders that blended into the stars of the night.

“Are you gonna sit there the whole night or are you joining me, angel?” asked Crowley, turning her head enough for Aziraphale to see the glint of molten gold eyes and the smoke of a cigarette haloing her head.

He blushed and climbed up to where she was seated. Crowley, for her part, had turned to straddle the crest of the roof and Aziraphale matched her, leaning against the chimney until he could find his balance.

“Ligur headed north,” said Crowley, waving her hand in the general direction. “I’m sure he sensed another Speakeasy that was more corrupt and headed that way. You get seen?”

Aziraphale swallowed around the dryness of his throat, “No, luckily not. You?”

“He and I like to run in different circles, so he goes his own way whenever he senses me,” she said, shooting a sharp smile out towards the city. Then turned a smaller one towards Aziraphale, “But we didn’t even cross paths. Want some?”

She held the smoke out to him and he took it without a second thought. Taking a long drag, Aziraphale let his eyes flutter closed as he relaxed and smiled.

“Good, I didn’t want anything happening to you,” said Aziraphale, then looked down at the outstretched hand between them. “I’ve had a good time today, Crowley. Thank you for inviting me over.”

There was a blush that spread across Crowley’s cheeks, freckles highlighted by the pink. She ducked her head and he caught a glimpse of the pair of feathers of her headband, black and white - the remnants of a preening long-forgotten.

“‘S nothing, angel, just thought you deserved to get out and have some fun - I know your guys are expecting you to be around the Temperance team and,” she shuddered, “they’re hideous - inside and out.”

“And what better way to spend my nights with a tempestuous demon at a Speakeasy full of debauchery and drinks,” Aziraphale said, a twinkle in those hazel eyes of his. 

Crowley took the cigarette and took a drag herself, “Write it off as you having to come and undo the sins of your adversary.”

“Hmm,” Aziraphale said. “We might come across very often - there’s just  _ so _ much tempting you could be doing at these places.”

The sparkle in his eyes was matched in the warmth of Crowley’s, “And you’d need to follow and keep me in check, wouldn’t you?”

“Quite right,” replied Aziraphale, reaching for the cigarette once more. “I’m the only one that can keep you in check, my  _ wily  _ adversary.”

Crowley chuckled, then sighed and gazed over at Aziraphale with a look that almost melted his heart. She worried her lip under sharp teeth and, with a coy expression asked, “Nightcap?”

Aziraphale beamed, flicking the butt of the cigarette into the ether, “I have a nice vintage that I was able to stash underneath a floorboard, better than the stuff these bootleggers can stir up. Ready, my dear?”

Crowley’s wings unfurled from the pocket of space they rested in and she swooped into the sky. She hovered before Aziraphale, hand outstretched, “I’m ready. Are you?”

Aziraphale’s smile had dropped into open-mouthed awe, but now his smile was brighter than the moon behind her. He took her hand and let his own wings spread, “Ready, darling.”

If anyone had looked out into the night, they might’ve thought they’d seen two winged, human-shaped beings flying hand-in-hand through the sky. They might’ve rubbed their eyes and then the sight had disappeared.

But, then again, they  _ had  _ been drinking.

Probably just a trick of the imagination.


End file.
